Addictions

Today, I picked up X-man at school a little later than our usual 3:45 p.m. Tuesday time. When I walked in he was sitting on the floor watching Ms. Shari play his favorite game (Trouble) with some of the kids. He saw me and looked sheepish.

Then he came forward ever so slowly put out his hand and opened it. In it was a X-man handful of little pieces of white thread. Apparently, he's been tearing apart his socks at school and hiding them under the carpet near his group spot. The teachers caught him doing it today...

My child, who has been told that if he continued would have to purchase his own socks with his allowance, apologized. Then he said, "I keep trying to stop, but I can't. I can't stop. I need help."

I'm going to remember this in case he ever suffers a drug addiction. Or -- more likely if he's like his mother -- a food addiction.

It's a nervous habit, kind of like the nose picking. But he's learned that no kids make fun of him for the sock thread pulling. Instead, it just annoys his mother who loves him no matter what. So, really, it's a much better nervous habit.

How bad is the habit? I've thrown away over 20 pairs of socks since November. He's got three pairs left. So, we'll be taking the $4 and whatever change he has in his piggy bank to Wal-mart so he can buy some more socks. I kind of have a feeling the only solution to this issue will be sandal season.

The happy part of my day was that after two hours of waiting, Carter's delivered our new sofa and oversized chair for our living room. We didn't get anything fancy because we have pets and a kid and well, we're the kind of people who are stupid and spill. But it's microfiber and big enough to cuddle on, which is awesome. Tonight, X-man and I cuddled while watching Kipper.

Love Your Library!

Something you may not know about me is that I love working in public libraries. I worked at the North Suburban Library in Loves Park from 1991-1996. I started out shelving and putting the metal sticker strips that make the security alarms go off into all the materials. As I got older, I did a lot of work in the children's section. I created a database for parents and school teachers who were looking for high-quality books on particular issues like divorce, diversity, potty training, death, etc. I also worked as a children's reference librarian, which rocked. I also worked the circulation desk and assisted the community outreach person with the monthly newsletter. The job let me see all aspects of public libraries from the overactive children who climb shelves, to the homeless people searching for warmth, to the die-hard romance readers who mark each paperback so they know which Harlequins they've read. It didn't pay a lot (my wage ranged from $3.62 to $5.00 over five years) but it was very flexible to my high school and college schedule. 

When we moved back to Illinois from Virginia, I wanted to work part-time, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to do. I ended up being hired as a circulation clerk for the Champaign Public Library. It was a temporary position while another employee served overseas in the military. I trained at the main library and then worked at the Douglass Branch, where my circulation duties and my past experience with children's programs blended. I was sad when my time ended at 10 months, and I thought I'd like to go to library school. Unfortunately, I didn't get into the University of Illinois that year. When I applied they warned me that the down economy was driving up their application numbers. And let's face it, I'm good, but children's librarian isn't sexy. At least not as sexy as the librarians who want to reinvent information management. I mean, I'm impressed by that. 

Regardless, I've never given up my love for the library. And on Feb. 15, the University of Illinois Center for Children's Books is having their annual sale. I had to miss it last year because I was on travel to California. But this year, I'm excited about going. Yes, it costs $20 just to get into the door. But once your in, books range from $1-2 for paperbacks and $5 for hardbacks. I take along a canvas bag and fill it for X-man and then come home all excited about reading all of my purchases. 

The sale itself is a big rush. Kind of like one of those Christmas morning releases. They put everyone in a holding cell in the order they arrived and then they set us free and people rush around shoving books in boxes. These are new books, mind you. Schools, churches, daycares, pre-schools, they all send a posse of people with boxes and crates and dollies. Other libraries use it to pick up books, too! There aren't very many individuals there. But I find it worth it every time I go. I'm usually in and out in under an hour. But my rush lasts for days. 

Because the one place I love more than the library -- is a bookstore.

Which makes me completely panicked about the current closure of Pages for All Ages. Seriously. It makes me sick to my stomach to drive by their parking lot and see it empty and the lights off with the evil signs up that they've closed for "THE DAY" for inventory. 

And that's not just because I have a gift card I'd like to spend. It's because I LOVE that place. 

Obsessed

So, the first step to recovery in a typical 12-step program is to admit you have a problem. 

Hello, my name is Looseyfur. And I am an Etsy addict. If you don't know what Etsy is, it's a website where individual artists can post their work for sale.

It started as a flirtation. I was looking for holiday presents last September and stumbled onto it when Rayne of Terror forwarded a link to an artist she loves who sells his prints there. And now I just can't stop. 

I love it. I ordered a bag from Penelope Parker for my sister-in-law at Christmas.

I ordered recycled paper notepads and a custom made rocket t-shirt for my son's third birthday party in March. 

And now I'm scouting out birthday gifts for people for the next year. I can't help it. Sure, some of the stuff is pure shit. But man, if you're a plus sized woman and want a sexy corset -- there are people who will custom make them to fit you, you just have to send in your measurements. 

If you are like me and LOVE hard-to-find, asymmetrical clothing, it's not a problem to find someone to make it for you on Etsy. They have awesome recycled raglan appliqué t-shirts and pants for kids, witty and dirty stationery, jewelry, watches, clocks, even freaking baked items. 

Seriously, I'm in love, particularly with the artists who make things using recycled products. I love things that are functional and pretty. 

Speaking of functional and pretty, a big shout out to Rogers who lent me her label maker. The art supply cupboard is now all put together in rubbermade containers and labeled. I even went as far as to put labels on the toy bins in the living room and am about to do the basement (just because my better half has a habit of just throwing shit wherever). 

But seriously, Etsy and a labelmaker, and you don't hear from me for days. I don't blog about how my kid has been congested since Thursday afternoon. He hasn't been wheezing or coughing all night (only when he wakes up), so we're just trying to keep him rested and away from the masses, but he's got an appetite and he's playing normally, so we might go on a trip to the grocery store tomorrow. (I promise to wipe down the handle of the cart afterwards!)

In other news, I'm trying to not plan out every weekend with fun-filled family enjoyment. :-) But there are so many things we like to do with X-man. We showed him the Pixar parade that they have at the California Adventure Disneyland theme park. We're planning a visit for this summer either before or after WWDC. He's just recently fallen in love with A Bug's Life, and most of the rides are from that era. But in the parade, he'll get to see all the Pixar characters that he's come to enjoy. 

Right now, he's a complete Toy Story freak. Seriously, two weeks ago, I gave him a stuffed Buzz. It had no wings or laser and the helmet didn't retract. It was more a soft stuffed animal body with a hard plastic head. Well, Buzz took a tumble to the floor and his head popped off. Busted. I worked on it and worked on it, but couldn't fix it. X-man got very sad. Then he placed broken Buzz on his window seat, covered him with a blankie, kissed his decapitated head and said, "Feel better, Buzz."

Yeah, so I didn't replace him with the same one, cause clearly he wasn't going to stand up to X-man's rough and tumble. But a lot of the Buzz toys are considered collector's items, so they sell for $40 or more on ebay or Amazon. But I found one person who was selling a Buzz for $19 on ebay, so I bought it. Yes, it has all the annoying bells and whistles, but X-man was so happy when we took it out of the box. He kept clapping, "New Buzz! New Buzz!" 

He's also got these 4" tall plastic figurines that I've got in the potty reward bin, with all the clearance stuff they had at Target last week like Toy Story tattoos, pencils, notepads, stampers, etc. They went in the tub and out of the tub tonight. Each one had to be washed and dried and kissed before bed. "To Infinity and Beyond!" precedes every flight to the bottom of the tub. And the hand-me-down Woody that someone brought to the swap that was from McDonald's is such a hit as the "bigger" Woody, that he hasn't even picked the little Woody from the potty jar yet, instead going for Alien and Rex, the dinosaur.

Now when he sees pictures of outerspace, he associates it with Buzz. When he sees cowboy hats, he thinks Woody. I watch him go from being this manic about Thomas to Cars to Bob the Builder and now to Toy Story. But I guess there are way worse items out there for him to be obsessed over... right? 

Oooh, and since he's been sick I just showed him my favorite non-Pixar Disney film, Mulan. In non-Disney fashion, Mulan is not a princess. She's smart, physically capable, and doesn't want to fit in the mold that is required in patriarchal China. At the end when all of China bows to her to thank her for saving the country from the Huns, I cry. 

But X-man stands and applauds. 

Seriously, we're addicts. You might want to back away from us now.

Deep Thoughts for a Calorie Counter

So I've been counting calories every day for a few weeks. I even did it on travel. On Thursday, I started out doing it and then I just stopped. I suddenly hated doing it and hated myself for doing it.

I woke up this morning and was supposed to go to this lecture/practice session that a local doctor and social worker were holding on things you can do using  your mind and body to combat depression. Since around the end of January through the first part of the warm season are always kind of hard for me (damn that seasonal distress crap), I thought I'd go. 

I went. I stood in line. I saw people I knew from the community. I saw the acquaintance whose e-mail list I was on. And then two people back from the registration table in the line -- I freaked out and I left. 

Instead, I went to the Dollar Store. I bought table clothes and plates and silverware and cups for the CARE holiday party. I bought X-man new potty rewards. And I sat in my car with my mylar balloons (to tie to my stroller so my friends can find me at the holiday parade tonight) thinking about myself and why I left, and what it was that sounded so good to make me want to go to the seminar that then, in the face of it, made me bail like the building was on fire.

I am extraordinarily self aware. And I know things in my head for a long time before I'll say anything about them and even longer before I'll act on them. Rogers is really knowledgeable about this part of me. I keep stuff to myself for a long, long, long time and then one day, I pick the right person and I let it out. 

And there are words I've been saying to myself for months. But I'm fighting the change that will come as I accept that truth and actually move forward to change my behavior. 

I have a figurative best friend that I lean on. She's there when I hurt. She's there when I'm bored. She's there when I'm happy. Everyone else has this friend too, but they somehow don't seem to consume as much time with her as I do... and even if they do -- their bodies seem to process her much, much better than mine does.

And I have to break up with this figurative friend. I have to rid myself of her the way you would a bad boyfriend or girlfriend. I have to realize she is not the constant in my life -- I am. But the hard part is that I have to see her several times a day. She's everywhere. But I have to look at her as if she's dangerous. I have to stare her down. And worse, even though I love her, I can't have her. But I also can't torture myself by measuring how much of her I consume in numbers and feeling guilty and shameful about it.

It turns out that counting of the calories is just as dangerous as counting of the WW points. I start to get more upset about the injustice that I'm made differently from other people rather than using my achievements as a way to reward myself for trying to take a step toward self-care. The truth is I know better. So rather than whining I just need to do it. End it. Let her go and hope that down the line, our break up pain goes away and it can turn into something more positive.

All I can do is write down my experiences with her in a list and try to fall in love with a new friend. I've already met him. He's much more demanding. He wants more of my time, and he works me into a frenzied sweat every time we're together. He levels out my moods just as well as she did, but my body feels awkward around him. His people are all lean and hardcore. I'm timid and soft. It's like I don't quite know if we go together or not. I enjoy his company, but it's just all so new.

Literal translation: I have to exchange my attachment to food for an attachment to exercise. 

I'm not quite sure how I'm going to do this. I don't do well in group meetings. There's this huge part of me that wants to stand up and scream that it's not fair that I have this issue while plenty of regular-sized people can eat what they want, work out the same amount (or less than) I do and never have to worry about looking like I do.

So I've stopped the calorie count. I'm going to list my food at looseyeats.blogspot.com. But you're going to notice that the exercise there will start to be way more diverse. I'm going to have to kick my metabolism's butt for a while... while avoiding social situations with food and alcohol. That's not at all an easy thing to do during the holiday season, so I'm sticking with the mantra of everything in moderation... 

But like most addictions, I'm expecting a long, ugly fight of withdrawal. So, if you see me out and about. Do me a favor. Don't be my dealer.

If you see me at an event with food and I pick up more than one brownie. Tell me to put it down. I don't care if I get mad. I don't care if I shout. Tell me, "For the love of your body, put the damn thing down." 

And forgive me if I'm a complete crab. It'll get better -- in six weeks. And the three ways I've chosen to begin are this: No fast food. No alcohol. 60 minutes of exercise five days of the week.

Who was it that said -- If you don't take care of your body, where will you live?

My Addiction to Christmas

So, I think I might have told you guys that I have an addiction for paper. I love smart ass stationery, well-designed book covers and wine bottle labels, and I have an excessive fondness for gift wrap. And nothing gets my paper obsession going more than the holidays. I start buying gifts months in advance and have them all wrapped and ready to go by Nov. 15. 

(For the record, I have 7 family members' gifts done, wrapped and waiting to be shipped right now. Yes, I know, to many this is a sickness.)

I like to get done early not only because I love the process and enjoy finding gifts for people, but because I hate people (that aren't my people) and I refuse to set foot in a store that's not for groceries or toilet paper after Nov. 15. I have made only a few exceptions to help other folks do their shopping. 

I don't throw old ladies to the ground to get into a store first to find a Wii. In short, I am a wuss. I like my capitalist Christmas, but I like to start dealing with it in August rather than the day after Thanksgiving. 

I've made it my mission to take the crap and stress out of the holidays. Because, let's face it... any holiday that requires getting together in large groups is gonna cause some stress. But what MacTroll and I found out first by moving 1,000 miles away from family and then by moving back here and building a house and having a kid, is that we really, really enjoy the family Christmas morning in our own home. We have no big meal or loud boisterous party. We sit around in our pajamas playing with our kid and taking it easy ALL DAY. 

And in essence, that's why we love Christmas. Sure, I enjoy giving the gifts more than the getting. But more importantly, I enjoy watching X-man see Christmas as a magical time when hope and kindness come together (hopefully) with some beautiful snow and some enjoyable music and a tree with nice lights while we sit in our home and enjoy our time with one another.

Really, holidays are just staging, right? But it's something different than a normal day. It has special foods and new toys and new clothes. It has new books waiting to be read and cuddly pajamas. It's an easier time. 

But Santa, if you're up and cruisin' the blogs looking for some miracles to bestow, I've been very good this year. But my Christmas list is very selfish, so get to everyone else's important ones (curing cancer, ending poverty, world peace, etc.) first... 

But my one Christmas (and Birthday) wish is this:

Please don't regift any gifts to my family that we might have given your family. Especially don't wrap them up and pretend like they're new. Instead, regift us stuff other people gave you -- stuff that doesn't look like it's been through high usage. But please don't do it with stuff I purchased myself. And it's not just me (the anti-Miss Manners) that says so... I mean, even the Motley Fools guys agree. They even made a do's and don'ts list for regifting!

If you want to be ecological and recycle old stuff your family loved, great, just e-mail me to see if I'd like them and then put them in a box and send them on any old day of the year. It's what I do. And if folks get the box and love them, great. If they don't, they can donate them. 

But regifting a gift someone has purchased you... is like putting the coal into the stocking, taking it out to show me, mocking me and then pelting me in the head with it.

Can I admit something?

I hate having to count 16 animal crackers out of the bag to determine my 3-point snack serving.

What's wrong about this is that with some other addictions, you stop cold turkey in detox. Not that that's at all fun and games. Seriously. That's really crappy hard. 

But in a really, really selfish way, I feel like there's some emotional validation to me comparing what I'm going through with Weight Watchers to someone handing an alcoholic a big bottle of vodka and telling her she can only have one shot. 

I know this will get better. In two weeks, I will still be annoyed that I have the problem, but I'll have learned to live with it. I did it before, and it was all good until I fell off the wagon. 

But right now, it's really frustrating.